


Black Snow, White Night

by Tenshiryuu



Series: Snowflakes and Shadows [5]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: BlackIce, Dom/sub, M/M, sensory play, shadow play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:25:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenshiryuu/pseuds/Tenshiryuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch knows just how to mess with Jack's senses.  And Jack loves it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shadow Puppet

**Author's Note:**

> There's some other stuff that should come before this as far as developing their relationship, but I just felt an immense need to get this drabble written and posted. I shall go back to the other things soon. Because sometimes you just want to get down and dirty. HowdoIwritenaughtythingsIdon'tevenknow.

It was a brisk Winter day in downtown Burgess, Pennsylvania. Only a few puffy white clouds remained in the azure sky, remnants of last night's flurry. The world below was covered in a sparkling layer of fresh white snow, Jack Frost had seen to that. The Guardian of Fun perched on a shaded ledge of one of the little town's dilapidated buildings, surveying his handiwork. His hometown always looked best around this time of year. Though the Christmas lights and decorations were gone now, the busy central plaza was still full of Winter cheer. Spring would come soon enough, forcing Jack back down to the southern half of the globe, but until then he would make certain that his friends had plenty of snow to enjoy.

“You know I'm starting to appreciate this season more and more, my little Winter Prince,” a sultry voice purred in Jack's ear. The snow sprite tensed, but somehow managed to not jump out of his skin this time. He was getting more accustomed to his boyfriend's sudden appearances. Jack knew how much Pitch loved the little thrill of fear he gave off when startled, but he didn't feel the need to give the Nightmare King that pleasure every single time. One of these days he was going to find a way to turn the tables. Not today, obviously.

He feigned irritation. “Good, you better appreciate it, because I'm awesome at what I do.” Jack tried to give his lover a cocky grin, but wasn't exactly certain where the other man was. Pitch was keeping to the shadows. Jerk. The Guardian of Courage was toying with him. Jack continued, “I'm so good, I should be a King too. Not just some lowly Prince.” Crossing his arms and raising his head in what he thought was a regal pose, the Winter spirit surveyed the rooftop.

Pitch's only response was a soft humming chuckle, the sound echoing around Jack. “Not yet, boy.” His ethereal voice drifted from Jack's right ear to his left as the shadows curled around him. “Need I point out that you are not just some lowly Prince. You are _my_ Prince.” Warm breath puffed against Jack's neck, forming little clouds in the frigid air. There was a sensation of slender arms wrapping possessively around him, though Pitch refused to rise from the darkness. Jack could see nothing but the shadows that Pitch cast over his own torso.

The snow sprite contemplated flying to a brighter, open location, which would force the other to show himself. Then Jack could give him a well-deserved nip on the nose, or maybe a bad case of brain freeze. He crouched, readying himself to take off, but his unseen lover held him back. “No, I don't think I'm going to let you run off just yet,” Pitch growled into his spiky hair.

“You're no fun.” Jack pouted, trying unsuccessfully to shift out of the dark embrace.

“Oh really? We'll see about that.” The silken tone of Pitch's voice sent an electric jolt through Jack's body. It was infuriating how just the mere sound of the man's voice could turn him on. Those velvet words were a magic spell that he was powerless to break.

He felt Pitch's arms, slender yet well muscled, tighten across his chest to pull Jack back against him. There was nothing behind Jack but Pitch's shadow cast on the solid brick wall, yet he felt the other man's slim frame rather than the stone surface. Warm, smooth lips pressed against the nape of his neck, causing the frost sprite to shiver. They hadn't been together very long and Pitch already knew how to push all of his buttons. The back of his neck was a big one, and Pitch exploited it at every opportunity. Jack tried to reach back, to wind his fingers into the other man's hair, but there was nothing besides the shadows. His fingers closed around empty air. His failed attempt earned him a smug nip.

“Dammit Pitch,” He gasped. The only response was that sultry laugh that made his body do strange things. Especially the bottom half of it. This was neither the time or place for this. They were out in the open, _in the middle of the day_ for crying out loud.

“Why don't we have a little _fun_ , Frost?” It appeared that Pitch could care less. The shadow of long, unseen fingers slipped under the hem of his hoodie, caressing the bare skin below. Jack's breath caught in his throat. This wasn't even fair. The touch was so real, so solid, more than any shadow had a right to be. Even Pitch's. He clenched his fists, unable to do anything else as Pitch lazily traced around his navel while nuzzling his ear. It wasn't fair at all, and it was turning him on. Damn Pitch and his knack for screwing with Jack's senses.

“You're ch-cheating,” He hissed. The dark shapes of Pitch's hands snaked further up his torso, folding the frost-edged material of the hoodie up and baring his chest to the elements. Heart racing, Jack's eyes darted around the rooftop, and he felt a wave of panic. He was still standing on a ledge. It was fairly wide, but it wasn't exactly out of the way. Below him in the streets, people were milling about on their daily business. “Stop it, Pitch. Someone could s-see us.” Forming words was more difficult that it should be, and his voice came out in a cracked squeak.

“By us, you mean _you_. Afraid of a little danger, Jack?” Pitch shivered, inhaling deeply, and Jack's body trembled in response. Gods, just hearing Pitch say his name was nearly enough to drive the snow spirit mad. “Your fear is delicious. _Exquisite_. I will _never_ have enough of it.” Sharp teeth tugged lightly at Jack's earlobe while invisible nails left a cool pink trail up his sides.

“Going..to be on Naughty list for...for sure,” Jack gasped. He should pull back, try and get out of sight of the street, at least. It was a school day, so it was mostly adults hurrying by below, but...gods, what if someone still saw them? What if one of the other Guardians happened to pass by? He was standing on a ledge, apparently alone, backed up to a wall, with his hoodie rolled completely up to his neck. Half of him wanted to fall back. The other, rebellious half said _why not_? The little thrill of danger was so invigorating. It was one of those things that made him feel like he was alive again. He'd never really wanted to be a good boy, anyways. Besides, what could the humans do? Pitch could spirit him away into the shadows in the blink of an eye.

The softly textured pads of Pitch's fingers traveled up the taught muscles of Jack's now-exposed chest, ghosting over his nipples, the sensitive skin hardening beneath their touch. The snow spirit arched his body into the caress. It felt so _good_. His body was starving for physical contact, and his lover knew it. Pitch purred, nipping at crook of his neck, sharp teeth creating little points of gentle pain that made Jack whimper. He wanted _more_. If he couldn't touch his lover, he at least wanted to feel more of him. There was too much material between them. That had to change.

“Hoodie. Off.” Jack managed to gasp out. Pitch gave a pleased growl in response, tugging the material over Jack's head and tossing it carelessly aside. Now he could feel Pitch's skin against his back, feel the warmth that radiated from his lover's body. It was the only kind of heat that Jack truly loved, and he pressed into it. A trail of hot, wet kisses blazed down Jack's neck to his shoulder, as Pitch's fingers continued to toy with the little nubs of cool pink skin, sending lightning jolts of sensation thought his very core. Jack sucked air in between his teeth, both pleased and annoyed. There was nothing for him to grab onto. Nothing for him to scratch or tug. The shadows eluded him, and it was maddening. He was going to get Pitch back for this. Once his mind worked enough to come up with a counter-attack.

Pitch, however, wasn't going to give him a moment to think about anything, let alone revenge. One hand abandoned his nipple to slide meaningfully down his stomach, slender fingers working their way into his jeans. Jack bit back a yelp, his own fingers once again closing around empty air as Pitch stroked him, finger pads moving slowly down his hardening length and caressing his slit. He didn't want to cry out too loudly, on the off chance it would attract unwanted attention. What if someone actually heard him, what if...

Jack's thoughts were interrupted as Pitch shifted around him. A shadow fell across his chest as the Nightmare King faced him, pressing hungry lips to Jack's own. It was like making out with air, only he could feel Pitch's lips and tongue against his, heated and needy. His scent hung heavy in the air. Amber, woodsmoke and moss. A hint of night-blooming jasmine. It was intoxicating. Jack's thoughts were only coherent enough to think up curses for his stupid, sexy shadow lover. Said lover's hands were an invisible pressure on his hips, holding him in place against the wall. _Not fair._

“Admit it, Jack. You're enjoying this,” Pitch broke the kiss just enough to whisper.

Jack attempted a snarky reply, but only succeeded in making a rather pathetic collection of noises as his boyfriend's lips began to occupy themselves with making their way from his jaw to his collarbone, while agile fingers worked to unzip the frost spirit's pants. Why did Pitch have to be so good with his hands...and tongue...and lips...and _everything_. Jack's nails scraped against the stone wall as Pitch slid the material down his hips, enough to expose his body to the Winter air. There were more aggressive little kisses and nips, following the slow descent of Pitch's shadow down Jack's heaving chest as the other man lowered himself to a kneeling position.

Jack struggled to bite back a cry as the Nightmare King's hot, slick tongue licked a trail up the length of his cock, pausing to lavish attention on the tip. It was torment, not being able to wind his fingers into that dark hair, to pull Pitch against him. The only use Jack had for his hands now, as his incorporeal boyfriend sucked him off, was to stifle his own cries by biting his knuckle. Someone was going to hear him, or see him, or both. He was going to murder Pitch. “I h-hope you choke,” he spat over his fist.

“Mmm.” Pitch hummed insolently around him, working his tongue along the underside of Jack's cock. The snow sprite let out a barely-stifled moan, as his body thrummed with pleasure. He couldn't focus on anything else now. There was only the slick humidity of Pitch's mouth, and the sensation of it gliding up and down his hardened length. If only he could look down into those silver and gold eyes. His muscles tightened. When Jack was nearly at his breaking point, his lover pulled away to finish him off with a few strokes of those damn clever hands. Jack clawed at the wall, causing little spirals of frost to form on the cool stone as ripples of pleasure spread through his body. Pitch was incessant. The ripples swelled to became waves of euphoria, washing over him and threatening to sweep him away. His muscles convulsed, and he thrust forward to come into Pitch's touch. Jack was too far gone to even try and silence the cry that tore from his lips.

As he sagged forward, the shadows in front of him rose, finally condensing into the Nightmare King's lanky form. Jack buried his face against Pitch's chest, breath coming in ragged bursts. His body was a strange mix of hot and cold, little sensations swirling and mixing inside him. He could do little more than mumble “Jerk.” The two of them sank down together, leaning against the brick wall. Below them, people continued to go about their business. If anyone saw what happened, too bad. Jack was beyond caring. Pitch cleaned him off with a scrap of solidified shadows, then rested his chin against Jack's head contentedly. Jack made a feeble attempt at headbutting him while tucking himself back in clumsily. “You suck.”

“Yes, that was rather the point. I love you too.” He pulled away enough to gaze at Jack's face with a smirk, gray tongue licking at jagged teeth. “Admit it. That was _fun_.” Silver-gold eyes glinted in the frozen Winter sun.

“Gonna...make you pay. Creep.”

“Is that a promise, my Prince?”

“Hell yes.” Jack glared. Pitch leaned against him once more, granite-gray fingers intertwining with porcelain-white, and the two gazed silently out over the snowy world below.


	2. Ties that Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finds a way to get back at Pitch for the Burgess incident. Sub!Pitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done for the Blackice Smut Challenge on Tumblr. Also because I really needed some submissive Pitch.

It had taken Jack a few weeks to come up with a good plan. He knew there had to be some way he could pay his lover back for that day in Burgess, some way to turn Pitch into the one who was a begging, mewling mess. Jack had carried that honor long enough. Sex was still quite new to him, but you couldn't say that Jack Frost wasn't a quick learner. This little challenge was fun whether he finally won or not, but he was determined to show Pitch that he was his equal, and a determined Jack was a force to be reckoned with.

He needed a way to toy with Pitch's senses. Jack didn't have the advantage of being able to melt into the shadows at will, but surely he could figure something out. Good thing he had some friends who knew everything about all things erotic. A quick visit to Kyoto to consult Momiji and the other _kitsune_ left him with a mind full of ideas. A few “purchases” later and Jack had a pretty good plan of how to show his boyfriend just who was boss here. Maybe. If he didn't pull off one of his famous Jack Frost screwups.

It was late one evening in Venice's Spring when Jack decided to get his devious plan rolling. He'd just returned from a busy week of ushering in Fall in the southern hemisphere, and tonight he and Pitch were taking some much needed alone time. The two of them had retired to the bedroom for the night. It was now or never.

Jack's musings were interrupted as Pitch slunk up behind him, long arms snaking around his chest. He could feel the point of the taller spirit's chin resting against his icy hair, and he bumped his head against it affectionately. “Miss me?”

“Maybe.”

“You know you did.” Jack wriggled in his lover's embrace, turning to face him. Well, face his collarbone. His boyfriend was a freaking skyscraper. _Not fair_. Really though, it was just part of his charm, and Jack loved it.

“I've got you now, and that's what matters. Shall we have some _fun_?” Pitch's graceful fingers brushed against the back of Jack's neck and he gasped, struggling not to melt beneath them. No, not tonight. Pitch wasn't going to get him like this tonight. He wasn't going to give into that fever-hot touch, or that silken voice.

Show time, before he lost his nerve. Jack reached back to wrap icy fingers around Pitch's slender wrists (just how did someone as huge as the Nightmare King have such delicate wrists, anyway?), pulling him down into a chill, hungry kiss. Pitch was used to this kind of reaction, and took no notice of Jack's frozen touch, argent eyes closing blissfully. _Hehe_ , the tall shade suspected nothing as Jack whipped out the first of his new purchases. He smirked when Pitch realized, too late, that the pressure around his wrists wasn't from Jack's grip alone. The tall man pulled back with a low hiss, slim wrists bound together with frosted straps of supple black leather. The Nightmare King's gilded silver eyes blazed.

“Jack, what-” he growled, but the snow sprite didn't give him a chance to speak. Jack thought about the wolves he often encountered in the frozen wilds. Dominance. Assurance. Tonight Jack Frost was in charge. He shoved the taller spirit back onto the bed, planting himself on his chest and forcing Pitch's bound wrists over his head. He had left some length on the little leather straps, and Jack froze these to the bed's backboard, giving just enough leeway to allow his prisoner to roll onto his stomach later.

For now though, Pitch lay on his back, chest heaving. Molten gold met frozen azure as their gazes locked. Pitch tried to sit up, but Jack pinned him down. One pale hand held his throat, the other his shoulder. An impudent, toothy smile split Jack's face. “Nuh uh. Down.”

Jack could feel Pitch's pulse racing beneath his arctic grip, the corded muscles of his neck taught as bowstrings. He'd learned enough about his moody lover to know that this was his most vulnerable spot. Pitch was a predator, a feral thing who had fought tooth and nail for the right to exist. Even as an immortal, he was reflexively defensive about it. Going for the throat still meant going for the kill in his eyes.

It was also, Jack knew, a major turn-on, for that very reason. Only because he had this man's trust did Jack even dare to play this little game. He'd never been this aggressive before, though. Jack tried not to bite his lip, to show any weakness.

Pitch gave a wordless growl. His eyes continued to burn into Jack's own, dark lips peeled back from jagged teeth. He really did look like a wolf, and anyone other than Jack would be dead meat by now. “We are gonna have a little fun, babe.” Jack forced himself to keep his gaze steady. “But it's gonna be _my_ way.” Pitch could probably still throw him off easily, but he didn't.

Instead of physical force, Jack felt a little twinge of uncertainty in the back of his mind, a little jolt of fear. _No_. He pushed back against it. _You're not weaseling out of this, not tonight_. _It's your turn_. It was a test of wills. Pitch trusted him, but that didn't mean he was going to go down easy. Giving up control was something he just didn't do, especially not to his little Winter Prince Jack. His little shadow puppet. Time to tame this wolf.

“I still owe you for that shadow trick back in Burgess.” He flashed his lover an impish smirk. “Now it's your turn. How about I give you a taste of your own medicine, huh?” Jack brushed the thumb of his free hand over the leather bindings, causing little swirls of frost to blossom against the blackness. His grip on Pitch's throat remained steady. Those luminous eyes narrowed, still unblinking, and Jack felt the muscles of his lover's lean frame tense. Was he going to try and throw Jack off? It took everything the smaller spirit had not to break his gaze. He was going to have the upper hand tonight. Jack's hold tightened just enough to drive home the point of his next words. “Tonight, you're _mine_.”

Pitch sucked in a sharp breath, gray tongue running over obsidian lips, heart pounding beneath Jack's fingers. Jack set his jaw determinedly, eyes never leaving Pitch's. _Don't blink_. They remained frozen like that for what felt like hours.

Then, slowly, Pitch lowered his gaze, turning his head away with a slow blink. Damn, had Jack really just won this round? That little gesture was the closest he'd get to an admission of “you win” from the Nightmare King. His smirk widened as he toyed with the edges of Pitch's robe. “That's right, I'm in charge tonight. You're gonna do what I say, aren't you?”

“Bite me, Frost.”

“I'm the one giving orders. Maybe later, though.” Jack's eyes twinkled mischievously. “But first, let's get rid of this, shall we?” He gave the material a little tug. “Take it off.” The fabric felt solid enough beneath his fingers, and behaved like normal cloth most of the time. Jack knew better though, and the solidified shadows that composed the robe melted away at Pitch's unspoken command, leaving nothing but the polished granite of his bare torso. Gods, his boyfriend was hot. _Focus, Jack_.

He pulled the rest of his purchases out of the hoodie's pouch, laying them on Pitch's toned chest. A ball gag, a blindfold of silky black, and some scented lotion. Pitch stared. Jack couldn't toy with Pitch's senses in the same way Pitch had his, but this would work well enough. Oh yes, this was going to be fun. He lifted the gag first. “Open your mouth.” Pitch turned away again, glaring at Jack out of the corner of his eye. He obeyed the order though, allowing Jack to tie the restraint around him. “Good boy.” Heh, usually Pitch was the one to say that. Jack was starting to like this role reversal thing. Pitch snarled around the edges of the restraint.

Now that his partner was bound, gagged, and not going anywhere soon, Jack slid off of him. He'd let Pitch see him strip before being blindfolded. Jack tugged off his hoodie, stretching his slender body temptingly, then casually slipped out of his pants with much more elegance than he'd managed the first time. Tonight he wasn't the one being thwarted by leather straps. Jack grinned at the brilliant gold eyes that followed his every move, picking up the blindfold and twirling it around his finger.

“Now, how about this?” He leaned over his captive. Pitch's eyes flicked up to meet his, breath coming in ragged bursts around the gag. Jack knew how sharp Pitch's vision was, how much he relied on sight. As he slipped the silken material around Pitch's head, he could feel the tension in his lover's body. Jack was taking away the two things most important to Pitch: sight and control, and Pitch trusted him enough to allow it to happen. There was a thrill to being deprived like this, to being at the mercy of a loved one's whims. Jack remembered it well from his rooftop experience. He pressed frosted lips to Pitch's forehead before leaning back to admire his handiwork.

Oh gods, Pitch looked good like this. His shadowy hide was beautiful, like sculpted and polished stone. It held a faint iridescence, a light rainbow sheen that could only be seen up close in the kind of intimate setting that Jack alone was privy to. That thick skin normally concealed the outline of the muscles and sinew below it unless Pitch was moving. Tonight, however, Jack could see every dip and curve clearly, the tension in Pitch's lanky frame causing them to stand out. This was the first time Jack was truly able to explore Pitch's body, the first time he wasn't just a shivering mass of incoherent thoughts beneath the man's enchanted touch.

He picked up the remaining item, a little container of peppermint-scented lotion that caused a tingling sensation when applied to certain _sensitive_ areas. Jack had tested it before. It worked. He knew Pitch already associated him with peppermint, if he was lucky then after tonight that scent would _really_ drive him wild. Pouring a little into his hands, Jack ran them over Pitch's chest, thumbs rubbing against the dark skin of hardening nipples. Pitch hissed and arched. “You can feel that, huh? Smells good too. I think this is a keeper.”

Jack traced the pads of his fingers lightly over his lover's sculpted abs, allowing little trails of frost to bloom and curl over them. Pitch strained at the bindings, soft sounds coming from behind the gag clenched in his jagged teeth. The lotion made him even more sensitive to touch.

Against the darkness of his granite skin, Jack's ice shone a clear bright blue. He traced intricate but fleeting patterns across the canvas of Pitch's chest, feathering them across his collarbone, around his nipples, and down between his pecs, accenting the dips and curves of his lean frame. Pitch shivered, chest heaving between Jack's pale hips.

The snow sprite contemplated creating an elaborate collar of ice for his bound lover, but decided against it. It would just get in the way, and he wasn't through with Pitch's throat yet. Winding his fingers into the elder spirit's coarse hair to keep his head tipped back, Jack turned his attention to that long neck. Starting with icy, wet kisses that followed the edge of his jawline, Jack worked his way down toward his prisoner's throat. His free hand gripped Pitch's shoulder, kneading into the tense muscles. A ragged moan escaped Pitch's lips as he tugged against the leather straps. Jack knew he wanted to touch him, to claw at his skin and pull at his hair. Nope, not this time. Let him squirm just like Jack had done that day on the rooftops. He was starting to see why Pitch enjoyed this kind of thing so much. Jack continued to kiss and lick and suck his way around Pitch's neck, and the Nightmare King trembled beneath him, unable to do more than mewl. Whatever resistance he'd been putting up before, it was fading swiftly.

Pitch's hips bucked against his rear. “Who's the needy one now?” Jack teased, perfect white teeth clipping at his lover's throat. Pitch snarled something that might have been an obscenity. “You told me to bite you,” he pointed out smugly, only mildly disappointed that Pitch's leathery skin was nearly impossible to mark. Oh well, there was always that beautiful frost lightning scar. Those gaunt hips twitched again, and Jack realized his prisoner was still partially clothed. That wouldn't do.

He slipped off of Pitch's chest to sit beside him on the bed, pale fingers working the catch of his belt buckle. The belt and his pants were physical materials, unlike his robe, which made sense. One thing to be weak in front of your enemies, another thing to be weak _and_ naked, should Pitch lose control of his shadows. Not that the Roman was very concerned about clothing, or lack thereof. Still, Jack was glad for some physical material. He liked the idea of undressing his lover. Slowly and deliberately he slid Pitch's pants down, freeing his hardening length from their confines.

Jack ran his fingers across the sharp ridge of the elder spirit's hip bones, luminous frost accenting their edges in arctic blue and white. Pitch whined softly, body twitching at the sensation. The sound became a choked cry as Jack caressed him, pale fingers teasing up the length of his cock, tracing around its dark-flushed head and ghosting over the slit.

Pitch gave a husky moan, spreading his long legs. Jack blinked, it took a moment for his brain to register the gesture as the invitation that it was. Pitch wanted him. Needed him. Jack licked his lips, then slid his body between Pitch's lean thighs. This was the part Jack felt uncertain about. He'd never done this before, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his lover. Pitch's knees pressed against him for a moment, a gesture that was somehow reassuring. Jack had experienced it himself enough times. He knew what to do.

He reached for the little bottle of lube that was always tucked away by the bedside. Coating his fingers, he began by gently stroking them around Pitch's entrance, relishing the little gasp it earned him. A thought occurred to Jack then. “You've never been taken like this, have you?” He couldn't imagine Pitch ever submitting himself to anyone since becoming the Nightmare King, ever trusting anyone enough to show this much vulnerability.

His lover gave no reply, the only sound coming from the strained hiss of breath around the gag clenched in his jaws. That was telling enough, he hadn't even bothered to snarl. “You haven't...” Jack was sure of it. Wow this was a new experience for them both. “Good thing you've got me here to broaden your horizons.” He gave Pitch a playful squeeze, grinning smugly at the strangled yelp it earned him.

Jack continued stroking him for a time before finally pressing a cool finger inside, keeping one hand on Pitch's lean hip as his body twitched in response. Jack wasn't nearly as big as Pitch, but he was still careful to stretch him out. A second finger had the tall shade canting his hips into Jack's touch, making soft sounds of need, slim legs spreading wider to urge him on. “Gods, you _are_ needy,” Jack breathed. He inserted a third finger, stretching him until Pitch gave an impatient whimper, bucking into him. “Hey, it's your dumb ass.”

The elder spirit gasped when he did pull out, wrists straining at the bindings once more. Jack's arctic gaze traveled over his lover's prone form, cool pink tongue running over chapped lips. How to do this... Yeah, that would work. “On your stomach,” he commanded. He'd given Pitch enough leeway to roll, which he did without protest, long legs drawn up beneath his chest.

Pitch's dappled back was scarred, long gashes striped across his shoulders and lower back from the claws of some ancient light demon. The markings stood out, smooth and pale in contrast to his granite hide. And gods did he have a nice ass. Jack's heart raced as he settled behind his partner, running a finger down the length of his spine. Pitch _shuddered,_ fists clenching in their bindings. That was another spot that set him off. Good to know. “Like that, huh?” Jack curled over him, resting his head against Pitch's lower back for a moment, stroking his sides. “I love you, jerk.”

He sat up again, guiding himself inside. Jack grasped Pitch's hips as the elder spirit pressed back against him greedily, pushing his cock in deeper. The Nightmare King arched his lithe back like a cat in heat. Fuck, it felt good to have Pitch beneath him, that toned ass between his thighs. He was warm, so very warm. Jack loved it. Loved Pitch. He started with slow thrusts, getting accustomed to this new position, stomach pressed to Pitch's back. His tempo increased rapidly as his lover urged him on. Why was Pitch so freaking _long?_. Jack couldn't reach his neck, which was a shame. He needed something to occupy his mouth. That scarred back would have to do.

Panting now, he bowed his pale head, lips and tongue tracing the ridges of Pitch's curved spine. A muffled cry escaped his lover's lips, smooth voice cracking. Icy breath rolled across dark skin in jagged puffs with each thrust, sometimes punctuated by a sharp nip or sloppily planted kiss. It felt so good. Jack moaned into Pitch's ached back, thrusts becoming more erratic. He was so close. _So close_. His grip on Pitch's hips tightened, blunt nails digging into leathery flesh.

Jack came with a cry that he didn't bother to muffle, head thrown back as every nerve twitched in pleasure. Pitch's body convulsed in tandem with his, the gag only partially silencing his strained voice. _So. Good_. Gasping and trembling blissfully, Jack collapsed against Pitch's sculpted back. Moonlight hair brushed against shadowed skin, the heat of his lover's body seeping into him. Porcelain fingers caressed Pitch's ribs and hips. It didn't matter to Jack that he was too warm now to create more frost trails across his captive's quivering frame. He just wanted to lay here, to feel Pitch's warmth, feel his heartbeat and hear his voice.

Catching his breath, he pulled himself gently out and urged Pitch onto his back again. The shade obeyed with a breathy moan. Jack slowly untied the gag, freeing Pitch's obsidian lips. These he kissed hungrily, and Pitch returned the favor with an exhausted but pleased purr. Jack savored the heat of his partner's mouth. Pitch was always so hot. Literally and figuratively. Damn this man. “Now see, wasn't that fun?” he panted, nuzzling Pitch's cheek.

“Can't... see a damn thing,” Pitch hissed breathlessly, his velvety voice still quavering.

Jack smirked, kissing him again as he slid the blindfold off. Quicksilver eyes shimmered, blinking beneath dark lashless lids before focusing on Jack. Pitch's chest still rose and fell rapidly, and he was doing his best to glare, but Jack could tell he was pleased. _Got you good this time_. Those glaring eyes lidded as Jack stroked his face, fingertips ghosting over sharp cheekbones to slip behind his ears, massaging that little spot he knew Pitch loved. The man practically melted into his hands.

Finally, he freed his boyfriend's wrists, letting his stretch and shake his spidery fingers out while Jack cleaned them both off. When he lay back against his lover, Pitch's shadowed arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. There were no snarky comments, no taunts or growled curses. Pitch simply curled up next to him, shifting down on the bed so he could lay his head against Jack's chest. Coarse black-brown hair streaked through with silver brushed against the ice sprite's chin, and Jack's fingers rose to comb through it lazily.

“So how 'bout it?” he mumbled, eyelids suddenly feeling heavy. “You totally enjoyed that. Trying new things is fun.” Pitch only mumbled something inaudible in response, but his arms tightened around Jack. Sapphire eyes closed, lips of iced rose still curled in an impish grin. “I love you.”

“...Love you too. Brat.” Pitch's soft voice trailed off, lean frame relaxing as sleep claimed them both.

 


End file.
